


i've been dreaming way too much (can we just turn this into reality)

by knoxoursavior



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-08-14 04:38:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16486061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/pseuds/knoxoursavior
Summary: Yut-lung groans.“I need a favor,” he says.“Fuck no,” Ash says.Or: Blanca is a professor and Yut-lung is his TA





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i think [makiko](https://was-dft.tumblr.com/) and i were talking abt eiji possibly studying photography post-canon and i immediately thought !! oh i should write a university au!!!! and then this happened :~(

Before they step inside the bar, Sing pauses at the door and fixes Yut-lung with a wary look.

“Please don’t make me regret bringing you,” he says.

“I’d never,” Yut-lung says. He manages to keep his face blank and his mouth in a neutral line, and yet somehow, Sing’s eyes still narrow into a glare.

“Let me be clear,” Sing says. “Don’t antagonize my friends, or I’ll never go on midnight ice cream runs for you ever again.”

Well. Considering how many times Yut-lung breaks down in a semester and how Sing is the only person in this world who would actually go out of their way for Yut-lung, he isn't giving Yut-lung much of a choice.

“Am I not your friend, Sing?” Yut-lung says. He has a hand on his chest and a crease between his eyebrows, but he lets his lips twist into a smirk.

“Shut up,” Sing says, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean. The last time you and Ash were in the same room together, you tried to stab him.”

Yut-lung sighs. “That was an accident.”

And for once, it really was. If he meant to drop the scissors on Ash’s foot, he wouldn’t have missed.

“Sure, sure. Just remember what I said.”

Sing turns away, pushes the door open with his annoyingly wide shoulders he also uses to pin Yut-lung down when they’re fighting over who gets to choose what to watch for movie night. Which should always be Yut-lung, by the way, since he’s the one actually paying for their Netflix account.

Yut-lung doesn’t reply, but Sing isn’t really listening anymore. Instead, he’s waving to Eiji, who's sitting at a booth in a corner of the bar and waving right back. Beside him is Ash, easily recognizable even in the dim lighting. He was smiling, before, but Yut-lung sees the way his face closes off the moment he sees who's tagging along for the night. It’s a little bit satisfying, knowing he has that much of an effect on Ash's mood.

“What are you doing here?” Ash says.

Sing sighs, and Yut-lung opens his mouth, a reply on the tip of his tongue, but Eiji’s already on it.

“Ash, that’s rude.”

“What? Do we like him now?” Ash says, but the line of his shoulders relaxes and he turns his body away from Yut-lung and Sing, back towards Eiji. 

“Sing’s friend is our friend,” Eiji says, patient as ever, kinder than he should be.

Ash grumbles, but doesn’t say anymore. It’s probably the best Yut-lung is ever going to get, so he takes the victory as it is and takes a seat beside Sing, right across from Ash.

“The next round’s on me,” he offers.

Ash raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to poison it?”

“Contrary to what you might think, I’m not out to get you,” Yut-lung says.

“The past four years say otherwise,” Ash says. Which, okay. Yut-lung is competitive, that's all. It just so happens that Ash is, like, Business Major Jesus, and that's why Yut-lung maybe has it out for him just a little bit.

“Can you two please stop your weird banter? We’re trying to have one last good night before your classes start again,” Eiji says. As much as Yut-lung likes to give Ash shit for being whipped, he can’t deny that having Eiji’s glare fixed on him isn’t a great experience overall.

Eiji gets up from his seat, shuffles past Ash and pulls Sing right along with him.

“We’re getting the next round. On your tab, of course, Yut-lung,” he says. “You two can stay here and figure out how to be friendly.”

And then they’re gone, and Yut-lung is left with Ash.

Ash, who doesn't intend to follow what Eiji told them to do considering how the first thing he says is, “Why are you really here?”

“What makes you think I’m not here because I want to see your stupid face?” Yut-lung says, which okay, not very mature of him, but Ash’s stupid face always brings out the worst in him. It doesn’t help either that the real reason Yut-lung is here is because he has to swallow his pride and ask Ash for something.

“Fine,” Ash retorts. “Be like that. Then I can tell Eiji you’re the one who isn’t cooperating.”

Yut-lung groans.

“I need a favor,” he says.

“Fuck no,” Ash says, which is rude, honestly, and Yut-lung’s glad that Eiji comes back right on time to hear it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to be friendly?” Eiji says. He has two mugs in his hands, full of the least watered down and most expensive beer in town. It’s fine; Yut-lung’s willing to pay for it if it means that he'll get what he wants.

“He said that my face is stupid,” Ash tattles, and he blinks up at Eiji with those stupid green eyes of his.

Eiji, as Ash's boyfriend, isn’t immune to Ash’s charms, and he turns to Yut-lung, an eyebrow raised.

“I may have said that,” Yut-lung admits, “but I didn’t like his tone when he asked me why I came here, and I said it out of anger.”

Eiji sighs.

“You two will never change, will you?”

“Why don’t you just tell them why you’re really here so we can get this over with?” Sing says. He hands Yut-lung his own beer, which Yut-lung gladly accepts and downs half of in one go.

“So,” he says, once he can look at Ash without feeling like he wants to throw the rest of his drink across the table, “I was saying that I need a favor from Ash.”

Ash rolls his eyes. “And I was saying fuck no."

“No.” Eiji wraps an arm around Ash’s neck, places a hand over Ash’s mouth. “We’re hearing him out.”

Yut-lung takes a deep breath, and then, “I need you to step down as Blanca’s TA this semester.”

But of course, just like he expects, Ash isn’t going to go down easy.

Ash shakes Eiji off, says, “No fucking way. I’m not going to work for those other assholes in our department. Blanca’s it for me.”

“No, listen. I got a GA spot at the library,” Yut-lung says, and Ash freezes. Yut-lung leans forward, meets Ash’s gaze and holds it. Yut-lung has got him, and now he just needs to close the deal. “I know you like the library, and I know you hate correcting all the undergrad papers. If we switch, you get to work in the library and you never have to see any undergad exam ever again. I get to be Blanca’s TA. Win-win situation, don’t you think?”

Ash narrows his eyes. “Why do you want to be Blanca’s TA anyway? I can’t imagine you’d want to deal with TA work any more than I do.”

“Professor Blanca is one of the best professors in our department, if not the best. Working under him is a valuable experience,” Yut-lung says.

“If by working under him, you mean working under him in bed, yeah,” Sing mumbles, which is  _ rude _ and Yut-lung has no problem letting him know by elbowing him in his side. Hard.

It only makes things worse, though.  Sing takes his elbow like a seasoned champion and continues, “Yut-lung has been wanting to fuck him since his first year. I should know, because I was the one who had to listen to all his shit.”

“I’m disowning you,” Yut-lung says.

“We’re distantly related. There’s not much to disown, jerk,” Sing retorts.

“Wait, you want to fuck Blanca?” Ash says. His face is, unbelievably, scrunched in distaste. “But he’s  _ Blanca _ .”

Yut-lung is ready to  _throw hands—_

“Blanca’s tall, and he’s very nice. You’re just biased because he’s, like, your uncle-figure or whatever,” Eiji says. He reaches up and pinches Ash’s cheek until Ash finally relents and schools his face back into a neutral expression. “Besides, working at the library sound nice, doesn't it? You’re always complaining about your TA job anyway.”

“You know what? Fine.” Ash takes out his phone, types something out, and then he reaches across the table to shove his phone into Yut-lung's face. “There. You’re Blanca’s TA this semester. Good luck with trying to fuck him or whatever.”

“I’m not trying to fuck him,” Yut-lung says automatically.

He’d probably try to throw Ash’s phone across the room if this were any other time, but he can’t help how his heart jumps at the sight of Ash’s email on the screen. Sans a formal greeting or signature, it reads,  _ switched with another grad student, gonna be working at the library from now on _ , like he’s just texting Blanca or something. Like, god, Yut-lung wishes he could be that casual with Blanca, but also, it’s too disrespectful for the image he maintains in front of his professors. 

“Sure,” Ash says, drawing out the word like Sing does whenever Yut-lung says he doesn’t mean to use up all the hot water every morning and that they just have a shitty water heater.

But it’s fine. Yut-lung lets its slide, because he’s gotten what he wanted anyway. 

  
  


Yut-lung definitely spends too much time deciding what to wear. So much time that Sing walks out on him and he has to swallow his pride and message Eiji, asking which outfit out of five is the best. Eiji ends up choosing the second one, which Sing said is exactly like the others, just with different colors, but that’s just  _ not true.  _ At least Eiji gets it.

In exchange for Sing being entirely unhelpful during Yut-lung’s time of need, he forces Sing to give him a ride to his building. It’s always a risk, having to fit all his hair under a helmet, but it’s better than running all the way and having to face Blanca all sweaty and disgusting.

“Good luck with your sugar daddy, I guess,” Sing says as Yut-lung rushes to take off his helmet and check if his hair’s still in place.

Sing manages to catch the helmet when Yut-lung throws it at him. Shame. 

Blanca’s office is on the first floor, thank God. As the Director of Student Affairs—an apt name, considering Yut-lung wants to have an affair with him—Blanca has an entire office room to himself located in the admin area instead of a shared workspace with some of the other professors up on the third floor. It gives Yut-lung just enough time to stop by the restroom and pull himself together, but soon enough, it’s 9AM and he has to go to Blanca’s office or risk leaving a horrible first impression. 

Blanca’s working on his laptop when Yut-lung peers through the small window on his door. He catches music playing faintly, the sound of a piano, sweet and gentle, but Blanca turns it off before Yut-lung can recognize the song. 

He freezes, realizes that Blanca is looking right at him, the same small smile that always makes Yut-lung’s heart skip a beat playing on his lips. Blanca raises a hand and waves.  Yut-lung feels his cheeks warm, feels his heart pounding in his chest, but he doesn’t let it get to him.

He opens the door halfway, just enough so he can stick his head through it.

“Professor?” he says. “I’m Yut-lung Lee. I’m your TA this semester.”

“Of course. Come in,” Blanca says, and Yut-lung does.

He takes a seat one of the two chairs across Blanca, tries his very best not to get overwhelmed by Blanca’s full attention and succeeds. Kind of. At the very least, he doesn’t look away and stare at his shoes like he’s tempted to do. 

“This is your first time, isn’t it?” Blanca says. His hands are clasped in front of him, his voice somehow lower than Yut-lung remembers from Blanca’s undergrad lectures he drank so much coffee to stay awake for, but maybe this is just Yut-lung’s brain exaggerating things for his poor, beat-up heart. 

“Yes, Professor. It’s my first year taking my Master’s too,” Yut-lung says.

It’s also his first time being so into someone, barring that one hazy week back in kindergarten when he maybe might have liked Sing, and also that one unmentionable day back in his first day of uni when he maybe thought that Ash could Get It. This is different. He’s liked Blanca for longer, and in a way where he’d actually be willing to think about taking care of a kid and getting married and all that domestic shit Ash and Eiji radiate if it meant he could be with Blanca for the rest of his life.

“We’re happy to have you, of course. Your case studies in your final year of undergrad were some of the best I’ve seen,” Blanca says. Yut-lung tries not to get too offended that Blanca only said  _ one of the best _ instead of just  _ the best _ ; he knows who he has to compete with, and as much as he hates to admit it, being second best to Ash isn’t so bad. Speaking of— “Has Ash told you anything about being my TA?”

“Not really,” Yut lung admits. They aren’t exactly the best of friends, nor would either of them say that they’re friends at all.

“That’s fine,” Blanca says. “That’s why we’re meeting right now.”

Yut-lung spends the better part of an hour in Blanca’s office, discussing his duties as a TA, coordinating their schedules for the best times to meet. It doesn’t sound so bad, really. He doesn’t think he’ll mind checking papers or proctoring exams or having to deal with undergrads if it means he gets to meet with Blanca at least once a week.  _ At least _ .

But because he has a class at 10, he has to leave eventually.

He says his goodbyes, but before he can even stand up from his seat, Blanca hits him with, “I’m looking forward to working with you this semester, Yut-lung.”

God. Yut-lung is looking forward to working with him this semester too. Closely, hopefully.

Yut-lung tries his very best, but he still stutters his way through his response. Then, he finally leaves the room exactly as he entered it, with his whole face red and his heart stupidly jumping in his chest.

After his class, when he takes out his phone to check for a message from Sing about lunch, he finds an email from Blanca. Attached are Blanca’s schedule, the class syllabus, and a summary of Yut-lung’s duties.  Most important of all, in Yut-lung’s opinion, is Blanca’s personal number listed at the very last paragraph of his email, right next to  _ You can contact me anytime. _

Yut-lung needs to lie down and Blanca needs to not say things he doesn't fucking mean. God.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a lot happens & yut-lung is still a mess

Look, Yut-lung isn’t stupid, okay?

He’s a smart, capable young man. He graduated top of his batch with a 4.0 GPA, the first since Ash two years prior, and he managed that while working part-time at his family’s company through all his years as an undergrad. He’s reliable and he works hard and he’s willing to play dirty if it means he gets what he wants, which is why he’s been able to rise through the ranks so quickly in the company despite his brothers trying so hard to keep him down.

So, no, he isn’t stupid. It’s just that Blanca makes him a little bit disoriented.

Or a lot. Maybe.

Like, okay, the only time Yut-lung was at risk of not getting a 4.0 was that very first class he took with Blanca as the lecturer. He came into class thinking it would be easy; after all, how could Human Behavior in Organizations be anything but? As detached as Yut-lung could be, he was already familiar with how people worked. He knew how to handle them, how to manage them, to predict their next moves. He had to learn, or else his so-called family would have eaten him alive.

But—well.

Blanca came in and pulled that particular rug from under his feet. It was hard to hustle and pay attention in class when he was constantly distracted by thoughts of how tall his professor was and how deep his voice was and how Yut-lung kind of wanted to touch his bicep to see if it really was as hard as he imagined it to be. Or to suck his dick maybe, but only sometimes, when Blanca was looking  _extra_ hot that day.

So, okay, Yut-lung missed a couple of opportunities to recite in class because he was so busy staring at Blanca, and yes, he also got an 84% on his midterms because Blanca had been right in front of him during the exam and his shirt sleeves had been rolled up. It wasn’t Yut-lung’s fault that Blanca’s arm muscles had been really distracting.

Still, in the end, Yut-lung was the one who had to see his measly 84% on the list of scores right next to his student number, and he was the one who had to make up for it for the rest of the semester. He learned to deal with it pretty quickly after that.

But the situation he’s in now is, obviously, worse. Or better, depending on what’s being considered. Worse because Yut-lung has to try _really_ hard not to freak out in front of Blanca, but better because he’s been given the opportunity to be in front of Blanca regularly. The only times he got to be alone in the same room as Blanca when he was an undergrad, it was just for a few minutes at a time, when he would go to Blanca’s office during his consultation hours and ask him questions about their lectures or their exams.

Now, Yut-lung gets to spend up to an hour with Blanca every Friday and another hour every Monday. Now, whatever composure Yut-lung managed through Human Behavior in Organizations and Advanced Accounting 1 to 3 has escaped him once again because the thought of that close a proximity to Blanca is messing with him. Which Sing can attest to, since he’s the one who had to sit through Yut-lung’s ramblings on all of the ways he can possibly mess up this semester and how badly things can go measured on a scale from _give-the-TA-job-back-to-Ash_ to _drop-out-and-never-show-his-face-here-again._

Also, now, he’s standing in front of Blanca’s office, holding a 20-pack box of the pour-over coffee from the cafe three blocks away from his apartment which, based on information from Ash that he had to pull out his wallet for, is Blanca’s favorite coffee in town. Because he somehow thought that it would be a good idea to just bring Blanca coffee out of nowhere. Great. He’s going to come off as a creep. To be fair, he probably _is_ a creep under certain definitions of the word, but he’s hot and he has good intentions, so it’s fine.

Yut-lung takes a deep breath, swears to himself that he’s going to get his $50 back from Ash when they meet again, and knocks on the door to Blanca’s office.

Blanca’s wearing glasses today, the same ones with the metal frames that make Yut-lung feel some type of way, especially when all of his hair is pulled away from his face and he looks more like a severe professor who would ask Yut-lung if he could _do anything_ for a 4.0. Even though Yut-lung already saw them through the glass pane on the door and prepared himself mentally, his heart still skips a beat and he still feels his cheeks getting warm. But he keeps on breathing despite the way his throat tries to close up on him, and he takes that as a win.

“Yut-lung,” Blanca greets, and his voice is just as beautiful as it was the week before and the very first time Yut-lung heard it coming from all the speakers in their big lecture room. “How was your first week?”

“Uneventful,” Yut-lung admits. He was expecting his professors to overwhelm him right away considering he’s taking graduate courses now, but they’re just as lenient during the first week as they were when Yut-lung was an undergrad. It kind of makes Yut-lung’s one-week leave from work seem like a waste.

“Well, that will change soon enough,” Blanca says, waving dismissively. “I’m sure you can handle it, but you’re welcome to ask me anything if you have any trouble.”

Blanca really shouldn’t be so nice considering the only trouble Yut-lung can think of right now is trouble with his poor, beat-up heart. And his dick, really, but he’s trying _really hard_ not to think about that.

“My students haven’t had such an easy week,” Blanca continues, “though I’m sure you know that already.”

Yut-lung nods. He’s had to go through four classes under Blanca after all, so he knows he likes to make them work. Recitation, weekly quizzes and homework, midterms and finals that no one can half-ass. Plus, on the second day of class, he always makes his students take a diagnostic exam.

A diagnostic exam which Yut-lung tried to answer himself after he read through all of Blanca’s lecture slides, and the results of which he’s being asked to analyze now.

“Just the usual statistics. Bell curve, mean, standard deviation, things like that. I can send you a sample of the slide I usually show in class,” Blanca says. He turns back to his laptop, probably looking for the document he needs already.

“I’d appreciate that,” Yut-lung says, though he vaguely remembers what Blanca’s talking about. Blanca would show those after every exam, and Yut-lung would always sit in front of class, just a little bit smug and very satisfied with himself because he would always be That Guy in class who breaks the curve.

“I’m also sending you the quiz for next week,” Blanca says, still typing. “But that’s all for today, really. We can talk more on Monday.”

“Oh.”

Yut-lung wasn’t exactly expecting to spend the entire hour with Blanca this week, especially since the semester’s just starting, but it’s still disappointing.

He realizes that his shoulders are slumping, that his eyebrows are knit together, and he startles. He straightens up in his seat, only to freeze when he sees that Blanca isn’t looking at his laptop screen anymore but smiling at him.

“I guess I should go,” Yut-lung says, but it feels disjointed, feels like his mouth is working on automatic and his brain is still stuck on the image of Blanca's lips, curled upwards into that small smile. “I’m sure you’re busy, Professor.”

“Please,” Blanca says. “You’re not my student anymore, Yut-lung. You can call me Blanca.”

Yut-lung wants to ask if he can also ask Blanca out now that he isn’t his student, but he bites his tongue on that. Instead, he says, “With all due respect, Professor, I still work for you.”

Blanca laughs under his breath, and it’s the most beautiful thing Yut-lung has ever heard in his life.

“Of course. But I feel like I should tell you that I really don’t mind. It isn’t like my previous TA made an effort to be respectful anyway, so the bar is set very low.”

Well. Hearing Blanca say that Ash set the bar very low might be the best thing Yut-lung has ever heard in his life, actually.

“I’ll consider it, then,” Yut-lung says, and this time, he has to turn away because Blanca’s eyes look just a little bit bigger with his glasses on and it helps Yut-lung notice how cute it is when his eyes crinkle. He hides the motion away by standing up, but then he realizes that he still has the box of coffee in his hands, now with one corner slightly crumpled from his grip, and he freezes.

He must pause for too long though, because then, there’s the scrape of a chair against the floor, and suddenly, there’s a hand closing around his elbow.

“Is something wrong?” Blanca asks, and Yut-lung struggles to parse his thoughts because this is probably the first time he and Blanca have ever touched and it’s  _too much_ for his Blanca-addled mind.

“I’m fine,” he manages, and he tries not to let the disappointment show when Blanca pulls away, much sooner than he would have liked. “I’m fine. I just forgot to give you this.”

Yut-lung sets down the box on Blanca’s desk, says, “Well, I’ll see you next week, then."

He leaves before he can make an even bigger fool of himself. He doesn’t look back to check Blanca’s reaction, even though he’s tempted to.

 

 

 

When Yut-lung comes in on Monday, Blanca offers to make him a cup of coffee.

Yut-lung accepts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im supposed to be doing smth else this week so this is a rly short chapter but i really wanted to update this :~( also there was supposed to be a scene with shorter but i cut it bc the end felt a little better like this?? idk but it's going into the next chapter instead!!
> 
> the next chapter should be better content wise lmao esp since im skipping to midterms already aaa the latter half of the semester should have more stuff happening the first half tho so !! it's a reasonable time skip maybe??
> 
> anw yea hmu on [tumblr](http://singeiji.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/singeiji)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its midterms and things uhhh get a little serious

Somehow, Yut-lung finds himself becoming a part of Sing, Ash, and Eiji’s weekly meetups. If he had known that it would come to this, maybe he would have asked Ash for his TA position through email instead.

But it’s not so bad, really. When Yut-lung ignores Ash and everything that comes out of his mouth, it’s actually pretty decent. 

Sing—well, he’s Sing. He still glares at Yut-lung when he thinks Yut-lung is embarrassing him in front of his friends, and he still jumps to defend Ash whenever Yut-lung tries to insult him underhandedly, but those happen enough at home that Yut-lung isn’t surprised.

At the very least, Sing has one less thing to get annoyed at, because Yut-lung maybe possibly likes Eiji now. He was doubtful at first. Eiji has always seemed too perfect, too nice. Yut-lung knows by now that some of the most cheerful and friendly people are also the most malicious, but Eiji isn’t like that.

Eiji is genuinely kind and he actually means it when he asks how Yut-lung is, and his photography job is surprisingly interesting unlike his taste in guys. But Eiji also has a smart mouth and a quick wit, and he can easily keep up with Yut-lung’s sardonic humor, which Yut-lung can’t say about a lot of people. Which is why as plain as Eiji can look when he’s next to someone as flashy, as attention-grabbing as Ash, Yut-lung would take his company over Ash’s any day.

So on the sixth week in a row that Yut-lung has to sit around a table with them, he doesn’t even try to duck out when they start to plan a movie night at Ash and Eiji’s apartment. As horrified as Yut-lung will probably be, imagining everything Ash and Eiji could have done on every flat surface in their apartment, it also sounds kind of fun. Maybe.

“Are we sure about the date, though?” Ash asks.

Eiji turns to Ash. “What about the date? All your exams will be done by then, so there shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Ash’s eyes flicker to Yut-lung for a split second, but Yut-lung catches it.

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

This time, Ash doesn’t try to hide it when he narrows his eyes at Yut-lung. “Nothing.”

But of course, Eiji doesn’t let it go.

“What is it, Ash?”

Ash sighs.

“Blanca’s probably going to work Yut-lung hard after midterms, so if we really want him to be there, then we need to push it back a little.”

That’s the first Yut-lung’s ever heard of it, but he supposes that if anyone would know, it’d be Blanca’s TA for two years.

But—

Well. Honestly, Blanca can work Yut-lung as hard as he wants. Yut-lung wouldn’t mind.

“I’m fine with scheduling it a week later instead,” Sing says.

“I am too,” Eiji says.

They turn to stare at Ash, who rolls his eyes and says, “Me too. Obviously.”

And Yut-lung kind of wants to cry because they didn’t need to do that for Yut-lung, but they did. Ash didn’t need to bring it up, but he did.

But Yut-lung doesn’t cry, and he definitely does not think about how the reasoning behind his petty posturing with Ash is slowly but surely falling apart with every week that passes.

Instead, Yut-lung goes and gets their next round of drinks, on his tab.

  
  


Turns out that Ash is right, because when Yut-lung comes in to meet Blanca the next Friday, Blanca not only hands him the usual stack of papers he has to check, but also a midterm exam he has to answer.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really, considering Blanca makes him answer every quiz before he gives it in class, but those quizzes are easy. They take up ten minutes of Yut-lung’s time from opening the document to answering it to sending Blanca his feedback. This, on the other hand, is supposed to be a three-hour exam that Blanca expects him to answer in an hour.

Though that, by itself, isn’t so bad. Yut-lung knows the material enough that he’s confident he can finish the exam in such limited time. No, the problem is that Blanca expects Yut-lung to answer it right here. In his office. In front of him. In a room where it’s just the two of them.

And again, Yut-lung can manage powering through Blanca’s exams when they were in a huge lecture room and there were a hundred other students in the room with them. It’s an entirely different thing when Yut-lung is sharing a desk with him small enough that if he reaches out with his arm, he can touch Blanca, just like that.

But of course, as flustered and nervous as Blanca makes him, the part of Yut-lung that doesn’t want to look incompetent in front of the only man he’d let dick him down wins out. So Yut-lung ties his hair up in a bun, downs half the cup of coffee Blanca offered him when he first came in, and he tries his very best to focus on the exam for the next hour.

A whole hour of being unable to stare at Blanca is worth it when he hands the exam back to Blanca and sees the look of satisfaction on Blanca’s face though.

“Perfect as usual, Yut-lung. And in less than an hour, even,” Blanca says, and Yut-lung tries not to blush. He does. It doesn’t matter, because Yut-lung is wearing his best full-coverage foundation today and if it can cover even the worst of his dark circles, it can cover his red cheeks too. “What did you think about the exam? Too easy, perhaps?”

“I think it’s fine,” Yut-lung says. Blanca has been a professor for a decade, after all; he’s pretty much mastered the art of it at this point. The only reason he needs a TA is because he has better things to do than check papers for hours at a time. “Maybe a couple of additional multiple choice questions, but it’s good enough as it is. It’s only the midterms after all.”

Blanca nods. Then, as he hides away Yut-lung’s paper, he says, “I also want to remind you that the next few weeks are going to be busy. Students will be asking more questions now that their exam is coming up, so I need you to check the class page at least once a day. You’ll also be proctoring the exam with me, and then we have to get the scores up the week after.”

“I’ll be ready,” Yut-lung promises.

“Good.”

Yut-lung dies just a little bit when Blanca smiles.

Then—

“Are you okay, by the way? Your ears are a little red,” Blanca says, and  _ fuck _ .

Amateur mistake. From now on, even if Yut-lung plans to wear his hair down the entire day, he should still put foundation on his ears. He never knows when he needs to put his hair up for an impromptu exam in front of Blanca after all.

“It’s just a little hot in here, I guess,” Yut-lung chokes out.

“Oh,” Blanca says. “You could have said. I would have turned it down for you.”

“It’s fine,” Yut-lung says. “Uh. If that’s all, maybe I should go?”

Yut-lung tells himself that he is definitely imagining the flash of disappointment in Blanca’s eyes.

“Of course. I’ll see you next week, Yut-lung.”

“See you next week, Blanca.”

  
  


Yut-lung has to come thirty minutes early on the day of the exam. He barely manages it, considering he just finished the last of his own exams last night and he’s still supposed to be catching up on sleep at 7:30 AM on a Saturday, but he does. He shows up with the biggest cup of coffee containing as many shots of espresso as the barista would give him, plus a new box of pour-over coffee for Blanca just because.

Blanca’s already there when he arrives. He’s already set up the countdown and the reminders, now projected onto the screen in front, so Yut-lung only has to call in the students and help Blanca pass out the papers.

And then, he has three hours to kill.

Three hours to kill with one big problem, because this desk is meant for one professor with their laptop and maybe a couple of papers, not two people. Besides, Blanca looks more like a bodybuilder than a professor given how wide his shoulders are and how his arms are so big that he could probably crush Yut-lung with a hug. Even if Yut-lung is more slender than most, it’s still a pretty tight fit. They’re sitting close enough that Yut-lung’s arm touches Blanca, that if Yut-lung doesn’t consciously keep his legs crossed, their thighs probably will too.

His only saving grace is everytime a student raises their hand so he has to stand up and go to them, and he promises to himself that he’s going to try and keep an open mind when he comes across one of those students’ papers while he’s checking later.

Honestly, Yut-lung can’t tell if this is better or worse than sitting across Blanca with an entire desk to separate them but having no choice but to look at him the entire time.

But no matter how long those three hours might feel like, they pass, and soon enough, Yut-lung is back in Blanca’s office with a stack of over a hundred papers waiting for their attention.

“Do you want to go out and eat lunch? Or should we just order in so we can get started?” Blanca asks.

As much as Yut-lung wants to pick the first option, he doesn’t think he has enough energy left in him to try and keep himself together for lunch and actual conversation with Blanca.

“Let’s just order in,” Yut-lung answers.

“Alright.”

While Blanca’s calling the restaurant, Yut-lung divides the papers into two stacks, takes out the answer key, and prepares his red pen. Then, he steps out for a moment and goes to the break room to make two cups of coffee for him and Blanca.

When he comes back, Blanca has already gotten started on his stack.

“Thank you,” Blanca says when Yut-lung hands him his coffee. “You didn’t have to.”

Apparently, Yut-lung loses his filter when he’s sleep-deprived and running on coffee, because he says, “Are you going to say that every single time I make you coffee?”

Blanca’s lips curl upwards into a smile, and Yut-lung’s glad he manages to take his seat and put down his own cup before he sees it.

“Only if you keep saying it when I make you coffee.”

“But it’s true when I say it,” Yut-lung counters. “You don’t need to make you coffe, but I  _ do  _ have to make you coffee.”

“You’re my TA, not my secretary,” Blanca says.

Yut-lung hates that he gets a vivid image in his head when he hears the word  _ secretary _ that makes his breath catch and his vision blur just for a second before he finally cuts off that train of thought.

“Besides,” Blanca continues. “I think you’re overqualified to be my secretary.”

Yut-lung raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe I’ll be the CEO, then.”

Blanca laughs.

“I’m sure you have your own company’s CEO to overseat before you attempt to come after me.”

Yut-lung freezes, then before he can stop himself, he asks, “Do you think I could do it?”

Blanca blinks, doesn’t answer for a moment that Yut-lung spends with regret bubbling in his stomach.

“I think,” Blanca says finally, “that you could do it if you really wanted to. I’ve seen your resume; I know how quickly you’ve been able to rise through the ranks. When the time comes that your brother has to leave the company, then I think that you could potentially present yourself as a candidate for the next CEO.”

“Oh,” Yut-lung says, and it feels like a sigh of relief more than anything else.

He doesn’t really know what he was expecting Blanca to say, but—well. It’s satisfying to hear that Blanca believes in him, at least. Blanca has complimented his grades and his work ethic before, but Yut-lung has always brushed it off. He was expected to get good grades, and he’s expected to do his TA work in a timely, professional manner, so Yut-lung doesn’t really see praise over them as significant as  _ this _ .

“Thank you,” Yut-lung says. Mumbles, really, because it’s kind of hard to breathe or talk or look at Blanca right now.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Blanca says, waving a hand dismissively.

Yut-lung huffs under his breath. “If I can’t thank you for saying what you did, then what can I thank you for?”

The phone rings then, and Blanca says, “You can thank me for buying you lunch. Which I am. It’s the least I can do in exchange for you buying me coffee.”

Actually, Yut-lung can think of a couple other things Blanca can do to repay him for the coffee, but okay.

They eat lunch while checking papers, and then after that, it’s nothing but coffee and mostly awful handwriting for Yut-lung. It’s repetitive work, except for the times Yut-lung reads a particularly infuriating answer on the paper he’s checking and he just has to pause and take a breath before diving back in.

It’s during one of those times that Yut-lung, eyes aching and brain feeling a little bit like mush in his head, falls asleep.

  
  


It’s already dark out when Yut-lung wakes up.

It’s confusion that hits him first, because the lights are off and the table is cleared and Blanca is nowhere in sight. Then, panic, because the table is  _ cleared  _ and last he remembers, he was only two-thirds of the way done with his stack of papers. He doesn’t know how he could have fallen asleep when he was drinking so much coffee, but then again, he’s exhausted from a week of work and exams and even more work. It’s not so unbelievable that coffee’s effect on him would plateau after an entire week of too much everyday.

Yut-lung checks his phone, sees that it’s already 6 PM, and gets even more confused because admin closes at 5 PM and the guard should have kicked him out by now.  _ Blanca  _ should have kicked him out, or at the very least, woken him up.

When Yut-lung stands, he feels fabric fall off his shoulders and onto the floor, and when he looks down to see what it is, he finds Blanca’s jacket.

And that’s—

Yut-lung doesn’t know what he feels about that. He just knows that his face is warm and his heart just skipped a beat because it means that at one point in time this afternoon, instead of waking him up, Blanca took off his jacket, walked over to Yut-lung’s side of the desk, and draped it over him.

Yut-lung picks up the jacket, hesitates, and then decides,  _ fuck it _ . He puts the jacket on, just over his shoulders because he doesn’t even want to see where his fingertips reach if he tries to slide his arms into the sleeves.

When Yut-lung looks around the room, he finds the papers in Blanca’s top drawer. They’re all checked, so Blanca must have finished Yut-lung’s work for him. There’s no note from Blanca anywhere, nor has Yut-lung received any email or text from him, so in the end, Yut-lung just gathers all his things, turns off the AC, and locks the door behind him when he leaves Blanca’s office.

But as he walks to the lobby, he sees a light still on in the admin office, and when he pauses to peer inside the room, he sees Blanca sitting at a table, a tablet in his hand and his glasses perched on his nose. He looks up when Yut-lung opens the door.

“You’re awake,” he says.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Yut-lung says.

Blanca shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Though you’ll owe me a couple of papers for the final exam.”

Yut-lung swallows against the lump in his throat. “Okay.”

He can only watch as Blanca stands and closes the lights, as he walks out the door and locks up the room.

“Come,” Blanca says as he starts to walk down the hallway. “I’ll drive you home.”

Yut-lung starts at that. Blanca’s already had to make up for his mistake today. He doesn’t need more.

“I can walk home,” Yut-lung says.

Blanca stops, turns, says, “It’s late, Yut-lung. I know this area isn’t dangerous, but you’re tired and you’ve had a long day. I’d feel better if I drove you.”

“I—” Yut-lung wears at his bottom lip, fiddles with the hem of Blanca’s jacket. Blanca only keeps smiling at him, patient. “Okay.”

The drive to Yut-lung’s apartment is only a few minutes long, but it feels like it takes ages. He feels small in Blanca’s jacket, still hanging over his shoulders, feels small in Blanca’s car, feels small with Blanca right beside him. There’s music playing, but the lack of conversation weighs on Yut-lung.

Seeing his apartment building takes a little bit of that weight off him. Blanca slows to a stop in front of it, but Yut-lung doesn’t get out just yet.

“I’m sorry again about what happened. It was very unprofessional of me,” he says. He doesn’t dare look at Blanca.

“Like I said, it’s fine. We’ve been working together for half a semester, Yut-lung, and you’ve only faltered this once,” Blanca says.

“This probably wouldn’t have happened with Ash, though.”

Blanca doesn’t answer for a beat, and then, “Maybe not.”

Yut-lung moves to open the door, but he pauses when Blanca continues.

“If I know you at all, though, you’ll learn from your mistakes,” he says. “I remember your first exam under me. You got 84% on the midterms, and the scores you got for your quizzes in the first half of the semester were similar to that. But you changed after that; you kept getting top score after top score, and no one could take that spot away from you. You learned from your mistakes, Yut-lung.”

Yut-lung turns to look at Blanca and finds Blanca looking back.

“You remember that?” he says.

Blanca smiles again, and Yut-lung has to convince himself not to look away.

“Of course I remember,” Blanca says. “I wouldn’t be a real business major professor if I didn’t keep track of my best students.”

Yut-lung doesn’t really know what to say to that, hasn’t really processed much of what’s happened since he woke up in Blanca’s dark office, so he opts to cut their conversation off instead.

“I should go,” he says.

Blanca takes it in stride though, only replies, “Good night, then.”

“See you on Friday,” Yut-lung says, and then he finally opens the door and gets out of the car. He doesn’t look back once as he walks away, even though he’s tempted to check if Blanca’s still watching him.

It isn’t until he’s already up in his room, trying to calm himself down, that he realizes that he forgot to give Blanca his jacket back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this has a diff vibe compared to the first 2 chapters and uhhh im not sure what to say abt that
> 
> anw hey hmu on [tumblr](http://singeiji.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/singeiji)!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its a thotty chapter folks

Yut-lung has Blanca’s jacket dry-cleaned on Wednesday night. Well, to be entirely accurate, he makes Sing take it to the dry-cleaners, but it’s only fair. It’s Sing’s fault that Yut-lung almost has a heart attack after all, because it’s Sing who almost spilled coffee on the jacket when they were having dinner. Even though he got his growth spurt years ago, he still stumbles all over the place like a baby deer learning how to walk.

It doesn’t matter why the jacket was anywhere near the dining table when it was supposed to be hanging on the knob of Yut-lung’s closet. It also doesn’t matter that Sing now has multiple pictures on his phone of Yut-lung wearing a jacket obviously too big for him, because Yut-lung knows his password and someday, when Sing finally lets his guard down, Yut-lung is going to delete those photos and find blackmail material on Sing while he’s at it.

So anyway.

Friday rolls around and the first thing Yut-lung does when he comes into Blanca’s office is to give the jacket back. It’s still in its dry-cleaning bag, safe and sound from clumsy family members like it has been for the past two nights.

“Oh, you didn’t need to have it dry-cleaned,” Blanca says.

Yes, Yut-lung really did, but of course he doesn’t say that. Instead, “It would have been rude not to.”

Blanca raises his eyebrows. “It think it would have been interesting to see you being rude.”

Yut-lung opens his mouth to respond, has to pause because what is he supposed to say to a professor who wants to see their TA being rude?

In the end, Yut-lung settles with, “I’m only rude to people who piss me off. So I’m sure Ash has plenty to tell you about it.”

“And your brothers too, I’m sure.”

Yut-lung looks away, purses his lips.

“Of course.”

“Then am I the only person lucky enough to get special treatment?” Blanca says, and when Yut-lung looks back up at him, he’s leaning forward with his elbow on the table, his chin resting on his knuckles. Somehow, this time, Yut-lung can’t look away again.

“Of—” Yut-lung cuts himself off, ignores his warming cheeks, makes sure to keep his voice level when he tries again. “Of course not.”

“Oh?” Blanca says, and okay, Yut-lung can’t help the way his eyes flicker to Blanca’s lips because they’re  _ really _ close and oddly red and also, they’re  _ Blanca’s _ . “That’s a shame.”

“Is it?” Yut-lung says, but he’s barely aware of it, feels like his mouth is running without him knowing it. All he can really think about is how he wants to brush Blanca’s stray hairs away from his face so Yut-lung can see him better.

Blanca nods, his lips curling upwards into a smile. “I was really starting to feel like I was special.”

This is—

Too much.

Yut-lung thought it would be easier by now but Blanca isn’t exactly helping and—

He takes a deep breath.

“Anyway,” he says. “What do you have for me today?”

This time, Yut-lung knows he isn’t imagining the disappointment in Blanca’s eyes, in the way his lips twitch before his smile widens into a grin, and Yut-lung files that little detail away for future consideration.

  
  
  


Movie night turns out to be much less about movies and more about Yut-lung’s life.

And okay, Yut-lung does talk about his problems and complain about Blanca a  _ lot _ these days, but this time, it isn’t actually Yut-lung who brings Blanca up. Sing’s in the middle of looking for Cars on their Netflix account when Ash crawls onto Eiji’s and Sing’s laps so he can shove his phone into Yut-lung’s face.

“Look at this.”

Yut-lung glares at him, ready to give him a piece of his mind, but then he remembers that Sing and Eiji are right there in between them. So instead, Yut-lung says, “What’s this?”

Ash sighs, drops his phone into Yut-lung’s lap before he goes back to his side of the blanket fort Eiji and Sing made for tonight. “Just look at it so I can finally delete it,  _ please _ .”

Yut-lung raises an eyebrow. “Will you beg me for it?”

“Oh my god,” Ash says. He turns to Eiji. “I’m doing him a favor and look what he’s doing, Eiji.”

“Yut-lung, please just look at it like Ash is asking. We’re supposed to be nice to each other,” Eiji says. The image of him patting Ash’s head and Ash visibly relaxing into his touch like he’s just a grumpy little house cat is both disgusting and a little bit funny.

“I was just teasing,” Yut-lung grumbles.

“Yeah right,” Sing says. He gets an elbow in his side for that.

When Yut-lung finally picks up Ash’s phone and looks at what’s got him so riled up, he finds Ash’s message thread with someone he can only assume is Blanca.

 

**Asshole:** What can you tell me about your friend Yut-lung?

**Ash:** um that we aren’t friends?

**Ash:** whatever you want to find out just ask him yourself god you’re both so fucking lame

**Asshole:** Down, boy.

**Ash:** i’m blocking your number

**Ash:** please never talk to me about you and your boyfriend ever again

**Asshole:** My boyfriend? 

**Asshole:** I assume you’re talking about Yut-lung but I don’t know why you would call him my boyfriend, Ash.

**Ash:** sjshsnsb

**Ash:** please don’t involve me in whatever is going on between you two or i’m suing you. goodbye.

**Ash:** hi! this is eiji. it’s nice to hear from you blanca, but we’d really appreciate it if it wasn’t just to fish for information about our friend. i, personally, would appreciate it if it wasn’t to rile up my boyfriend. anyway, see you at thanksgiving! :)

**Asshole:** Hi, Eiji. It’s good to hear from you too.

**Asshole:** I understand. I’ll keep that in mind.

**Asshole:** See you at Thanksgiving! 

 

“So is he into you or what?”

Yut-lung shoves Sing away, which he realizes too late as a mistake. Shoving Sing means shoving him into Eiji, and Eiji doesn’t deserve that.

But Eiji only places his hands on Sing’s shoulders, gets on his knees so his head is peeking out from behind Sing’s.

“I really think he might like you,” Eiji says. “I mean, I guess he could have just texted Ash about you because he knew it would annoy Ash, but I don’t think so.”

Yut-lung hesitates, doesn’t answer right away because he isn’t entirely sure either, but—

“I think that he maybe might like me,” he says. “Maybe.”

“Duh,” Sing says, rolling his eyes, and Yut-lung kind of wants to cry. This is one of those rare times that Yut-lung’s actually glad he’s family.

“I think—” Yut-lung has to turn away because his cheeks are warming up and he  _ really  _ doesn’t want to talk about this but also, he desperately wants this off his chest. “I think he flirts with me sometimes.”

“You think?” is Sing’s helpful contribution, which okay, Sing has criticized Yut-lung multiple times for being a dumbass about Blanca, but it’s  _ Blanca _ . Sing just doesn’t get that dazed and confused are the two main things most people feel around him. 

Well, Yut-lung says most people, because it’s becoming more and more apparent to him that he’s managed to find the only three people in this world who aren’t attracted to Blanca.

Ash groans, says, “Are we really talking about this? Aren’t we supposed to be watching a movie?”

He’s ignored, of course, because Yut-lung’s life is more important than Lightning McQueen’s. 

“I don’t want to burst your bubble here,” Eiji says, and Yut-lung steels himself because that does not bode well for him, “but Blanca flirts a lot. He flirts with  _ me _ because he knows it annoys Ash.”

“Oh.” Somehow, even after Yut-lung prepared himself for the worst, it still stings, hearing that he could be just getting his hopes up. “I guess—I don’t know. You know I can’t really handle it when he flirts for me too long and sometimes, I think he looks disappointed when I try to change the subject? I don’t know.”

Sing wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulls him into a hug and doesn’t let go. “If he’s just playing with you, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Eiji, in turn, wraps his arms around the both of them, while Ash sits behind Eiji, opting not to join in, which Yut-lung appreciates.

“You know what I’m thinking?” Eiji says, and there’s this conspiratorial glint in his eyes, a playful lilt to his tone that ignites in Yut-lung excitement and primal fear in equal parts. “Blanca needs a taste of his own medicine.”

Ash perks up at that.

“Eiji, have I told you today that I love you?” he says. Then, with a grin that makes Yut-lung kind of glad they’re on the same side, “Count me in.”

Sing nods. “Me too.”

“Wait,” Yut-lung says, because as much as he loves their energy right now, he also has no idea what exactly they’re talking about. “What are we doing?”

“You’re always the one getting flustered, and that’s not fair! You need to make  _ him _ blush,” Eiji says.

Oh. Well, if Eiji thinks he can do it then  _ maybe _ .

Yut-lung leans forward, his eyebrows knit together and his jaw set. “How?”

Eiji exchanges a look with Ash and Sing.

“This is what you’re gonna do—”

  
  
  


Yut-lung has never worn skinny jeans before, but now, knowing how his ass looks in them, it seems like a mistake not trying them sooner. It’s a little hard to breathe, but it’s fine. Eiji says he only has to wear it for the duration of his meeting with Blanca and then he can go home, change into his satin pajamas, and relax for the rest of the day.

For now though, Yut-lung has to try his very best to give Blanca a taste of his medicine. Which he’s succeeding at, he thinks, if the way Blanca visibly swallows after Yut-lung enters his office is any indication.

“You’re dressed casually today. Did you come from home?” Blanca says.

Yut-lung takes a seat where he usually does, crosses his legs and leans forward against the desk. “Oh, no. I’m meeting up with Sing after this, so I changed into something more comfortable. I hope it’s alright with you.”

“Of course. We’re not in class, after all,” Blanca says, and Yut-lung doesn’t miss the way he leans forward too, just a little bit, like he’s instinctively reacting to Yut-lung.

Yut-lung allows his lips to twist into a sharp smile, allows his eyes to crinkle as he tucks his loose hair behind his ear. “Great! Sing has been complaining about feeling underdressed whenever he’s with me, so I thought I’d indulge him.” 

“Ah,” Blanca says. “Then this Sing, he must be your boyfriend?”

“He’s just family,” Yut-lung assures. He pauses, and then, “Wait, don’t move.”

He stands up, closes the distance between them until he’s just inches away from Blanca’s face. Then, he picks nonexistent dirt off Blanca’s hair because Eiji said he had to.

“There was something in your hair,” he says, lingers for a moment before he finally pulls away and sits back down.

Eiji hasn’t failed him yet, and he doesn’t even now, because Yut-lung finally has the pleasure of seeing Blanca’s cheeks dusted pink.

“Did you change your cologne?” Blanca asks.

Yut-lung tilts his head. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Blanca doesn’t look away, meets Yut-lung’s gaze head-on when he replies, “I would, actually.”

Yut-lung’s heartbeat is loud in his ears, but he ignores it. He can flirt. He can play Blanca’s game. He  _ can _ .

“Well, that’s too bad,” he says. “Because it’s a secret I only tell special people.”

It’s not, actually. Eiji just showed up last night with all of the clothes on Yut-lung’s back and this cologne, which he assured Yut-lung would be to Blanca’s tastes. Yut-lung doesn’t even know what it’s called, just that it smells light and citrusy, like he’s just bathed in lemon juice.

Blanca blinks. 

“Am I not included in that group?”

Yut-lung can  _ see this through _ . He isn’t going to let this faze him. He’s going to make Eiji proud—

“We’ll have to see,” he says, punctuates it with a smile barely held together because all he really wants to do is change the subject.

And he does change the subject, because it’s been ten minutes of them flirting and that’s all he promised Eiji and the others. All that matters is that now, he knows for sure that it isn’t just him getting his hopes up.

Blanca likes him too. Maybe.

At the very least, Blanca’s  _ very _ interested in him, and that’s enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm its back to messy gay vibes after the last chapter which was more serious and i also dont know how i feel abt that


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some ash/eiji/sing propaganda plus some soft blanca/yut lung :~)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi.. im sorry its been like a month uhhh also logically i know that kitchens should be next to the dining area but thats not whats happening in this fic bc of plot reasons ok im sorry

Yut-lung was willing to dress himself in tight clothes. He was willing to flirt with Blanca for ten minutes at a time because Eiji said it would build up his tolerance to Blanca’s  _ everything _ —which it didn’t, by the way. 

This, though, might be the worst idea they have had yet. Or the best, if you ask Ash, Sing, or Eiji, but they just don’t  _ understand _ . Ash and Eiji haven’t been single for six years, and Sing is tall and drives a motorcycle so people probably just fall at his feet, begging to go on a date with him. They seem so confident that this night is going to go well, but Yut-lung doesn’t know how they expect him to sit next to Blanca and make conversation and flirt for the entire night.

Maybe Yut-lung would have been better off not knowing anything about their plan. Maybe they should have just surprised him tonight. Sure, Yut-lung might have had a heart attack, might have made a run for it, but at least he wouldn’t have had to deal with hours upon hours of waiting, thinking of every single way this night could go wrong.

What’s worse is that Eiji and Sing have left Ash and Yut-lung alone in the living room because they’re apparently impossible in the kitchen and threats to their dinner, and as much as Yut-lung’s relationship with Ash has improved, they’re not exactly at the point where Yut-lung would willingly vent to Ash or where Ash would willingly listen.

Eventually, Yut-lung has no choice but to meander into the kitchen, shoulders slumped and a string of doubts on the tip of his tongue. Eiji only has to take one look at Yut-lung for him to abandon what he’s doing.

Yut-lung follows when Eiji beckons him to come closer, listens when Eiji tells him, “You don’t need to worry so much, Yut-lung.”

“But I thought I’d get more time to prepare myself. It’s only been a couple of weeks,” Yut-lung says, and no one can blame him for the way his voice rises to a squeak.

“And look how far you’ve come in such a short time!”

Objectively, Yut-lung knows he hasn’t come far  _ at all _ , knows that he still gets flustered every single time Blanca compliments him, that he’s still shaking every time he leaves a meeting with Blanca. Still, it’s hard not to get swayed by Eiji’s boundless optimism. He only has to take Yut-lung’s hands in his and hold on tight so Yut-lung can’t escape from the sheer earnestness and faith in those wide eyes of his, and Yut-lung falls once again into a spiral of hope, of  _ maybe, maybe I can _ .

“I guess it won’t be so bad to try tonight,” Yut-lung says, and he’s rewarded with a smile from Eiji, wide and dazzling and all-too bright for someone who has been cooking all morning.

“That’s the spirit!” Eiji says, and then he’s patting Yut-lung on the cheek, pushing a wooden spoon into Yut-lung’s hand. “You can help me and Sing cook dinner for now, okay?”

Yut-lung takes a deep breath, resists the urge to worry at his lip and fidget. Eiji’s being nice enough to give him something to do, even though Sing is probably going to end up watching over Yut-lung the entire time, judging by the silent conversation Eiji and Sing are having that he’s just pretending not to see. 

“Okay,” Yut-lung says finally. He takes the spoon, lets himself be distracted by the simple tasks that Eiji gives him, lets himself relax with Eiji’s ever patient instruction and Sing’s watchful eye in his periphery.

He tries very hard not to think about Blanca, and he succeeds for the most part. Sing catches his mistakes the few times Yut-lung lets his mind wander, so it’s fine.

Soon enough, all their food is either done or still in the oven, but then Yut-lung is pulled into an pile on the couch and forced into watching a movie with Sing’s arm around his shoulders, Eiji’s hip on his lap, and Ash’s everything pressed uncomfortably close to him because Sing is a giant who takes up way too much space for someone his age.

The sound of the doorbell when it rings is almost jarring. Yut-lung expects his worries to come flooding back, but Eiji takes Ash’s place beside him when Ash gets up to get the door, and it helps enough that Yut-lung manages to keep himself in check.

Until Blanca steps into the room, that is.

Immediately, Blanca’s eyes meet his, and immediately, Yut-lung finds himself freezing in place because logically, he knows that Blanca must not wear a suit all of the time, just like he doesn’t, just like most of business majors don’t. It’s an entirely different thing, seeing it, especially since Blanca has arms and shoulders like  _ that _ .

But then Blanca smiles at him, and Yut-lung can’t help but smile back.

When Blanca starts walking towards him, he ignores the way his heart jumps, ignores the impulse to lean back against Sing. Blanca’s already so much taller than Yut-lung is, but he seems even taller now that Yut-lung has to look up at him from the couch.

“Yut-lung,” Blanca says. “I wasn’t expecting you here.”

Yut-lung tilts his head, wets his lips to stall because it’s a little harder to come up with flirty remarks when he has his friends watching him.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says. “Did I manage it?”

The curve of Blanca’s lips is all amusement, and Yut-lung wants to kiss it away. He doesn’t. He can’t, but he does cross his legs, does let his calf brush the fabric of Blanca’s jeans.

“You certainly did,” Blanca says. “Though I fear what you’ll think of me after tonight. I wouldn’t want to ruin your image of me, after all.”

Yut-lung raises his eyebrows. “I think I should be more afraid of what  _ you _ will think of me when you see me after a couple of drinks.”

Before Blanca can respond, though, Sing coughs, not so subtly. When Blanca’s gaze slides from Yut-lung to Sing, it’s relieving and annoying in equal parts, and Yut-lung is torn between the urge to elbow Sing and the urger to hug him for giving him a chance to breathe.

“You must be Sing,” Blanca says. He sits down on the coffee table, which by some miracle, doesn’t creak at all under Blanca’s weight. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Whatever Yut-lung said about me, don’t believe him,” Sing says, which okay,  _ now  _ he deserves an elbow to his side. Not that Yut-lung can actually do anything about it, because it would be petty and he doesn’t want to look petty in front of Blanca. Not yet anyway.

“Yut-lung?” Blanca shifts in his seat, leans forward so his knees brush against Yut-lung’s. “He’s mentioned you, of course, but I’ve mostly heard about you from Ash and Eiji.”

Yut-lung doesn’t notice that Sing has tensed up until now that he’s relaxing into Yut-lung’s side.

“Oh,” Sing says. “Well, that’s fine I guess.”

“Yes, yes, I understand you’re a close friend of theirs,” Blanca says. There’s an edge to his smile, a sharpness to it that wasn’t there before, and Yut-lung has no idea why because as far as he knows, this is the first time that Sing and Blanca have ever met. Besides, Sing has more reason to be wary of Blanca, considering that as family, he is kind of required to be protective over Yut-lung.

“Okay!” Eiji says, jumping up to his feet so suddenly that Yut-lung actually startles. “Why don’t we get started on dinner? Blanca, Yut-lung, you can help me get all the food from the kitchen. Sing and Ash, you can start setting the table.”

Eiji doesn’t waste any time. He grabs Yut-lung and Blanca by their wrists and drags them to the kitchen, leaving Sing and Ash in the living room.

“It’s great to see you again, Eiji,” Blanca says.

“Yeah, it sure is, huh? It would be even better if you would just play nice,” Eiji says, and Yut-lung is really starting to think that he missed something because Eiji’s tone is leaking with passive-aggressiveness that he hasn’t heard in a long time.

It’s a far cry from the image of Eiji that Yut-lung has built up in his head. He’s usually so nice, after all, even to Yut-lung, who must not have given off the best first impression considering how he and Ash would argue before.

Yut-lung tugs at Blanca’s sleeve, tugs until Blanca finally looks down at him and not at Eiji because Yut-lung actually likes them and he doesn’t want them to fight about—whatever this is.

“I’m getting hungry, so maybe we should start bringing out the food,” he says.

Blanca takes the out, thankfully. 

“Of course,” he says, and when he turns back to Eiji, the edge to his tone is gone. “What do you need me to do, Eiji?”

Eiji hands Blanca a bowl of rice big enough to serve both Ash and Sing who, individually, manage to eat twice as much as Yut-lung does. “Take this to the table.”

Blanca takes it without complaint, and Yut-lung doesn’t miss the way his forearms flex as he shifts the bowl in his hold. And then Blanca spares him another smile before he walks out of the kitchen, which is just  _ great _ for Yut-lung’s already jumbled thoughts.

Once Blanca’s out of earshot though, Yut-lung sidles up into Eiji’s space, whispers, “What was that about?”

Eiji sighs. “Nothing.”

Yut-lung doesn’t even dignify that with a response, only has to raise an eyebrow for Eiji to amend, “I just didn’t like how he was talking to Sing.”

Yut-lung frowns. “Does he not like Sing or something?”

“No. He’s just—” Eiji cuts himself off, presses his knuckles against the crease between his eyebrows. Then, “You know what? You shouldn’t worry about it, Yut-lung.”

But of course, even if it’s Eiji telling him not to worry, there isn’t any way Yut-lung can just drop it. 

“Sing’s family. Of course I’m going to worry about it,” he says, because Sing might only be distantly related to him, might barely be related to him at all, but he’s a better brother than any of Yut-lung’s biological ones. If it comes down to choosing between Sing and Blanca, Yut-lung will always choose Sing.

But still, Eiji waves him off.

“It’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with Sing,” he says. “Blanca’s just being an asshole because we hang out with Sing more than we do with him now that Ash isn’t his TA anymore. So stop worrying about it, okay?”

Yut-lung opens his mouth, another question on the tip of his tongue because he doesn’t really believe that Blanca would be unpleasant to someone just because of that. Even if that were the case, friendship, Yut-lung’s learned, is a two-way street, and Blanca would be just as much at fault for not spending time with Ash and Eiji as the pair of them are.

And really, it just feels like Eiji’s hiding something, and as much as Yut-lung doesn’t want to ruin his still budding friendship with Eiji by prying too much, he’ll still do it if Sing is involved. 

But before Yut-lung can even start, Blanca walks back in and Eiji hands the both of them a pot each to take to the table. Yut-lung has no choice but to follow Blanca out of the kitchen and into the hallway. 

He catches up to Blanca, sidles up to him, says, “Eiji won’t tell me what’s really going on.”

“Well,” Blanca says, “that’s likely because he and Ash haven’t told Sing what’s going on either.”

Yut-lung stops in his tracks. “What  _ is _ going on?”

Blanca pauses, turns around, but he doesn’t stop there. He takes a step towards Yut-lung, and another, and another. Yut-lung doesn’t realize he’s reacted until he already has his back pressed against the wall, until Blanca’s already leaning into his space, until their faces are already only inches away from each other.

Yut-lung’s heart feels like thunder, reverberating through the hallway.

“Tell me,” Blanca says, “do you think Sing likes Ash and Eiji?”

Yut-lung’s eyebrows knit, his hands tightening around the handles of the pot still in his hold, the only thing keeping him and Blanca apart.

“Of course he does. They’re his friends.”

Blanca smiles, and even in this situation, Yut-lung can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to Blanca’s lips.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Blanca says.

It takes a second for Yut-lung to connect the dots, distracted as he is.

“Wait, are you saying—” Yut-lung cuts himself off, cuts the thought off because he loves his friends but he doesn’t want to think about  _ that _ . “He doesn’t. Does he?”

“Well, which one is it?” Blanca asks, and Yut-lung hates this, hates that he doesn’t know the answer. He hates that he’s been so focused on himself and his own problem with Blanca that he hasn’t even noticed a thing when he’s been spending so much time with Sing, Ash, and Eiji the past few months.

Yut-lung swallows past the lump in his throat, says, “Why does it even matter if he does like them? He isn’t the type of person who’d try to break them up, so you can rest easy.”

But Blanca shakes his head, and when he bows his head, Yut-lung can see his eyelashes fluttering as he closes his eyes.

“That isn’t the problem,” Blanca says.

“Then what is?” Yut-lung asks.

Before Blanca can answer though, there’s sudden movement in Yut-lung’s periphery and it’s Eiji, peeking into the hallway.

“Can you two please stop flirting in our hallway, please?” he says, and Yut-lung’s overwhelmed with the need to reach up and cover Blanca’s ears. But he doesn’t, because he’s holding a pot of food that Eiji and Sing worked hard to make, and really, at this point, Blanca can’t not know that they’ve been flirting with how much they’ve been doing it recently.

As if to prove it, Blanca says, “Sorry, Eiji. We’ll try to stop ourselves.”

Yut-lung wishes they  _ were  _ flirting; it would have made being caught by Eiji actually worth it. But Yut-lung bites his tongue, doesn’t say anything even when Eiji raises an eyebrow at them.

Eventually, Eiji sighs.

“Okay. Now go and do what I told you to do,” he says, and he walks back into the kitchen before either Blanca and Yut-lung can answer.

Immediately, Yut-lung turns to Blanca, eyes narrowed.

“We’re not done talking,” he says.

Again, Blanca smiles at him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  
  
  


Yut-lung watches Sing, Ash, and Eiji all throughout dinner. He watches the way Sing’s hand brushes against Eiji’s every time they hand each other a plate, the way Sing’s gaze sometimes lingers on Ash and Eiji’s clasped hands. Yut-lung watches the way Sing turns away, hesitant, every time Ash or Eiji looks up at him.

Yut-lung isn’t surprised he never noticed. Not much ever shows in Sing’s expression, but Yut-lung can see it now that he’s looking for it. He sees the way Sing’s throat works, the way his jaw clenches for a moment before he no doubt forces himself to relax. Yut-lung sees the way Sing can’t help but look, can’t help but drink in too much of something he can’t have. Yut-lung sees it because he knows what it feels like.

He wonders how long Sing has been suffering quietly, for him to have gotten so good at hiding it. He’d be concerned, but Sing isn’t the only one stealing glances, isn’t the only one stuck looking in from the outside.

Ash and Eiji have always been so comfortable with Sing, have always included him in the things that they do. Yut-lung always thought that they’re just that close as friends, but now—

Well. Maybe they don’t have to be just friends.

Yut-lung excuses himself after dinner, brushes a lingering hand across Blanca’s shoulders before he slips away to the bathroom. He washes his hands, splashes water on his face, and when he looks up, he finds Blanca reflected in the mirror, his arms crossed over his chest and his back to the open door.

“Well?” Blanca says.

Yut-lung grips the edges of the counter, asks, “Are we going to do something?”

Blanca raises his eyebrows. “In here, Yut-lung? I hope not.”

“Oh my god.” Yut-lung groans, ignores the way his cheeks warm, barely stops himself from turning around and giving Blanca a piece of his mind. “I meant about  _ them _ .”

Blanca laughs, raises his hands in surrender. “I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.”

“You’re just a big flirt, aren’t you?” Yut-lung says. It’s supposed to be a joke, but the words are bitter as they tumble from his mouth, heavy as they settle in the space between him and Blanca.

Blanca takes a moment to reply, a moment where they’re just looking at each other in the mirror, but then—

But then he says, “Only with you these days.”

Yut-lung feels his breath catch, feels his heart jump in his chest. When he speaks, his words come out breathless.

“Good,” he says. “I should be the only one.”

Blanca’s arms fall to his sides and he steps away from the door, comes closer and closer until Yut-lung can feel his body heat where he’s barely inches away behind Yut-lung. Yut-lung swallows, barely fights a shiver when Blanca leans further into his space, plants a hand on the counter right next to Yut-lung’s.

“And am I the only one you flirt with, Yut-lung?” Blanca asks.

“Obviously,” Yut-lung answers, mouth dry.

“Good,” Blanca echoes, and finally, he steps away, gives Yut-lung room to breathe.

It takes a moment, but Yut-lung gets his bearings.

“Anyway,” he says. “What are we going to do about them?”

The curve of Blanca’s smile turns dangerous.

“I have a few ideas.”

  
  
  


Blanca’s plan is simple. Too simple, really, and all too tactless. Yut-lung has to wonder why he likes Blanca when the best thing he can think of is to just ask Sing straight up if he wants to be Ash and Eiji’s boyfriend.

But then again, it works.

Sing’s face twists, becomes a shade of red even brighter than that time Yut-lung caught Sing watching Frozen on their huge living room TV, trying and mostly failing to sing along with it. Ash moves to stand up from his seat, but Eiji stops him with a hand around his wrist.

“Blanca,” Eiji says, and suddenly, Yut-lung is glad that he let Blanca handle his whole so-called plan because Eiji, who is an angel, a saint, the gentlest person on this planet, sounds like he could kill Blanca if he really wanted to.

Somehow, though, Blanca doesn’t even blink.

“Eiji,” he counters, and his tone is patient bordering on mocking.

Eiji’s eyes narrow. “We weren’t going to pressure him.”

“Then you wouldn’t have gotten anywhere,” Blanca says, and okay, if Eiji wants to punch him, Yut-lung can kind of empathize.

Yut-lung prefers Blanca’s face sans any bruises though, so he stands up and drags Blanca along with him.

“We’ll let you talk things out,” he says. Then, to Sing, “I hope you don’t come home today, I guess.”

Sing’s eyes are wide, and his voice is small when he says, pleading, “Yut-lung?”

But Yut-lung just smiles at him, encouraging, just shows himself and Blanca out of Ash and Eiji’s apartment. They come to a halt outside though, because they only really talked about pushing Sing, Ash, and Eiji into talking about their feelings, not what they’d do after that.

“What now?” Yut-lung asks.

Somehow, Yut-lung forgets that he’s been holding Blanca’s hand until Blanca’s already tugging him closer, until Blanca is already reaching up with his free hand to fix the scarf Yut-lung haphazardly threw around his neck on the way out of Ash and Eiji’s apartment.

“Do you want to get coffee?” Blanca asks.

Well. There’s no way Yut-lung can say no when Blanca is looking at him like that.

“Yes,” Yut-lung says. “Please.”

  
  
  


Blanca takes Yut-lung to the cafe near his apartment.

It’s cold, even inside the cafe, but Blanca offers his coat to Yut-lung, and Yut-lung gladly takes it. They get coffee, share a slice of cake. They don’t talk at first, but Yut-lung doesn’t know how much of that is because of the fact that he keeps his head bowed, playing with his food more than he actually eats it.

If it is because of that, then he appreciates that Blanca doesn’t push him.

“Ash and Eiji, they’ve been helping me. Sing too,” Yut-lung says eventually. He looks up at Blanca, tries not to let his gathered courage slip from his fingers when he sees Blanca’s unreadable expression. “They’ve been helping me get better at talking to you.”

“Why would you need their help?” Blanca asks.

Yut-lung swallows against the growing bundle of nerves in his throat. “Because I get flustered. Because I can’t flirt.”

Blanca reaches across the table, takes Yut-lung’s hand in his.

“I like it when you get flustered,” he says. His smile is small, but it feels like fireworks on a moonless night. “Then again, I also like it when you try to flirt back. Maybe I just like you no matter what.”

“Really?” Yut-lung asks, just a little bit breathless because Blanca has never been this direct, never been so blatant about—about this  _ thing _ they have between them. Blanca has always been shameless with his flirting, but he’s never outright said something like this, and never so seriously.

“Really,” Blanca says.

Yut-lung turns his hand over in Blanca’s, squeezes. Somehow, his next words come easily.

“I like you no matter what too.”

  
  
  


The night has to end one way or another. Even though Yut-lung would prefer that it doesn’t, it isn’t so bad when Blanca is holding his hand to the end.

Blanca steps out of the car before Yut-lung does. He opens the door for Yut-lung, offers a hand that Yut-lung takes, and he doesn’t let go even after he’s helped Yut-lung out of his car. Their fingers remain intertwined until they’re standing in front of Yut-lung’s door, stalling for more time, just a few more moments together.

“I’ll wash your coat,” Yut-lung promises.

“I’d tell you to keep it,” Blanca says, “but I like that it smells like you when you give it back to me.”

Well.

Yut-lung doesn’t really have anything to say to that, so instead, he closes the distance between them and hides his face in Blanca’s chest, clings to the back of Blanca’s shirt with his free hand. Blanca is warm and firm and Yut-lung barely stifles the sound that attempts to climb up his throat when Blanca’s arm settles around his shoulders.

“I have a confession to make,” Blanca says. When Yut-lung looks up at him, he finds Blanca looking back, eyes crinkled. “I actually suspected that Ash and Eiji were helping you. They weren’t really subtle when they would call me after our meetings and ask me if anything happened to me that day.”

This time, Yut-lung isn’t able to stop a squeak from escaping his lips, and he ducks his head back down in an attempt to muffle it. Blanca isn’t having it though. He takes Yut-lung’s chin in his hand, gently pushes until Yut-lung is looking up at him again.

“Hey,” Blanca says, and Yut-lung might actually cry at how soft that single word is, how soothing, how calming.

“I’m sorry,” Yut-lung says. “It’s embarrassing.”

Blanca shakes his head. “It shouldn’t be. Thank you for trying your best, Yut-lung.”

And then he bends down. And then he presses a kiss onto Yut-lung’s forehead. And then he’s stepping away, squeezing Yut-lung’s hand before he says, finally, “Good night.”

And then he’s walking away, and Yut-lung is left standing there, a hand on his forehead, chasing the warmth that Blanca has left behind.

  
  
  


Sing doesn’t come home that night. It’s just as well. He would have just found Yut-lung in bed, wearing Blanca’s coat over his pajamas, hugging a pillow tight, imagining Blanca in its place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi uhhh im sorry again folks


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's just a lot of softness i guess um

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's finally the last chapter!!!!!!!!!! yay aaaa also hi i upped the rating... yea

Finals are, most of the time, a hundred times worse than midterms. Not necessarily the exams themselves, but there’s stress that’s built up all throughout the semester, anxiety that’s taken over the entire student body, wondering if these last few requirements will make or break their semester.

Yut-lung has multiple semesters of experience under his belt, but he isn’t exempt from the pressure of finals week. He gets swamped with exams he needs to study for, papers he needs to write, emails from Blanca’s students that he needs to answer. His days become a blur of highlighted notes and cup after cup of coffee, his laptop screen turned up to its brightest setting, the dark circles under his eyes getting worse and worse with every morning that comes.

His only consolation is Blanca, who, after their meetings, wraps his arms around Yut-lung’s shoulders and tells him to close his eyes just so he can press a kiss onto each of Yut-lung’s eyelids. His lips are soft, gentle, and every time they brush against Yut-lung’s skin, he wants to tip his head up and let his lips meet Blanca’s.

He doesn’t though. No matter how much he wants to, he doesn’t. Not yet,  _ not yet _ . 

Instead, he lets Blanca’s comforting words wash over him, lets himself bathe in Blanca’s warmth, lets himself linger in this little pocket of time that is theirs. Yut-lung takes every kiss and every word, lets it breathe life back into him. 

It’s almost scary, how Blanca can so easily change Yut-lung’s mood, how he can so easily make Yut-lung’s worries and doubts and nerves go away, how he can so easily just kiss away the frown on Yut-lung’s face if he wanted to. Blanca doesn’t, not yet, but he  _ could _ and it’s  _ scary _ . 

Yut-lung has never been felt so much or so intensely for someone before. He’s always been too focused on work, on university, on proving himself to his brothers. He only fixated on Blanca because Blanca, to Yut-lung’s undergrad self, was safe, unattainable, nothing more than a person to think of when Yut-lung needed an outlet for his frustrations.

But that changed when Yut-lung decided to be Blanca’s TA, because now, Blanca isn’t out of Yut-lung’s reach anymore. He’s right there,  _ right there, so close _ . He’s done everything but take that last step and Yut-lung can’t help but be  _ relieved _ .

It isn’t that he doesn’t want to be with Blanca, because he does. He  _ does _ . He wants it more than anything, wants to be able to pull Blanca into a kiss whenever he feels like it, wants to be able to look Blanca in the eye and know that he’s the only person who gets to see Blanca’s eyes soften with barely hidden affection.

He wants it, but not yet. Not if he’s the one who has to come out and take it.  _ Not yet _ .

For now he takes what he’s given, nothing more, nothing less.

  
  
  


Yut-lung’s semester ends with the exam for Blanca’s class.

It’s at night this time around, but Yut-lung’s already in Blanca’s office by lunchtime. He’s still dressed in his best suit, fresh from his last case study presentation of the semester. He’s tired, worn out, but seeing Blanca makes him feel a little bit better. 

Being hand-fed by Blanca, though, makes him feel a  _ lot _ better.

“I feel like a baby,” he says, because he kind of does. Blanca is cutting up his chicken for him, nudging his mouth open with a gentle hand on his chin, feeding him his food spoon after spoon after spoon.

He probably should feel guilty about making Blanca do all the work, but he’s  _ tired _ and Blanca volunteered, so it’s fine. Yut-lung also really likes the way Blanca laughs and calls him cute every time he gets so much food in his mouth that he looks like he’s puffing out his cheeks, so there’s that too.

“When you say that, I feel like a cradle-snatcher,” Blanca says.

Yut-lung leans forward, plants his elbow on the armrest of Blanca’s chair, props his chin up on his hand so he can look up at Blanca with his eyes crinkled and his lips stretched into a toothy smile. 

“You kind of are,” he says, and he makes sure not to miss the way Blanca’s lips twitch as he fights a reaction. 

Yut-lung only keeps smiling at Blanca until Blanca sighs, until Blanca levels him with a look accentuated with a raised eyebrow, until Blanca says, deadpan, “Yut-lung.”

“What?” Yut-lung says, but it’s hard to keep up his teasing smile when Blanca’s expression turns almost unreadable except for the thin line of his mouth, drawn too tight to be anything but concerning.

“What?” Yut-lung repeats, but this time, his eyebrows furrow and he inches back, just a little, his hand going from his chin to the armrest of Blanca’s chair, gripping tight as he braces himself. 

Blanca bows his head. “You’re okay with that?”

“Of course I am,” Yut-lung says. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t think twice. He reaches out, takes Blanca’s hand in his, squeezes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Blanca’s eyes soften for a moment before he starts to pull his hand away, before he says, “I used to be married, you know.”

Yut-lung didn’t know, but that’s alright. That’s  _ alright _ . He doesn’t know Blanca inside and out yet, doesn’t know much besides what he’s learned over this semester. Which isn’t a lot, admittedly, but it isn’t like Yut-lung is in a rush. They have all the time in the world.

So Yut-lung takes Blanca’s hand again before it can get too far. He doesn’t let go.

“If you used to be married, then you must not be anymore. That’s all I need to know,” he says, and he’s rewarded with Blanca’s arms around his shoulders, Blanca’s lips against his cheek, Blanca’s touch light where it seeks his pulse.

“My wife died before we could even move here to America,” Blanca says, and Yut-lung feels his heart clench in his chest because he’s never heard Blanca so morose, so melancholy. There’s nothing he can do but hold onto Blanca and let Blanca hold onto him, so he stays where he is, presses himself further into Blanca’s space as if he could take away Blanca’s pain just from being close to him.

“I’m sorry,” Yut-lung whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Yut-lung feels Blanca curl himself around him, feels Blanca’s grip tighten around his shoulder before relaxing, feels Blanca melt into him. Yut-lung sits through it, tries not to think about how much he hates to see Blanca like this, how much he wants to help Blanca forget, how much he wants tell Blanca,  _ I’m here, I’m here now and I’ll never leave _ .

Not yet.

It takes a while before Blanca pulls away, but when he does, the first thing he says is, “I’m sorry.”

Yut-lung wants to pull him back into a hug, but he doesn’t. Instead, he runs his thumb across the back of Blanca’s hand. Instead, he says, “You’re okay, Blanca.”

“Well,” Blanca says. There’s a smile that curls across his lips but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Now you know that I don’t actually have it all together. Not really.”

Yut-lung shakes his head. “I never expected you to. That’s just normal. I’d probably feel like shit if I had to be in a relationship with someone who’s perfect when I’m such a fucking mess.”

“You’re not a mess,” Blanca says, and now his eyes crinkle as he reaches up to tuck Yut-lung’s hair behind his ear. But then, he adds, “Well. Maybe you are. You’re a mess when you're trying to flirt at least.”

Yut-lung fights a smile, but all he can do is to hide his face in the palm of Blanca’s hand. “Shut up. I try  _ really _ hard.”

Blanca leans in, presses a kiss onto Yut-lung’s forehead.

“I know you do,” he says. “You’re very good at it.”

Yut-lung’s cheeks are too warm and his heart is beating too loudly, but there’s no way Blanca hasn’t already noticed by now, so he decides to just reach up and cling onto Blanca’s shirt, to keep Blanca close.

“Stop it,” he mumbles into Blanca’s neck. “I might actually believe you.”

When Blanca laughs, Yut-lung feels it, feels the rumble of it where he’s pressed into Blanca’s chest.

“Alright,” Blanca says. “I’ll stop. For now.”

Yut-lung nods, snakes his arms under Blanca’s so they’re both wrapped around each other.

“Wanna stay like this,” he says, because Blanca is warm and big and comfortable, and hugging him makes Yut-lung feel like he’s safe, like he’s snug under a blanket in the early morning and Blanca’s heartbeat is the sound of the birds chirping outside Yut-lung’s window.

The armrest is uncomfortable between them, and Blanca must realize it because he pulls away for a second, turns his chair around so they’re face-to-face instead. Blanca pushes him down gently until Yut-lung’s head is on his lap, until Blanca’s fingers are running through Yut-lung’s hair, until Yut-lung is looking up at Blanca whose kind eyes and tender smile flood Yut-lung with comfort.

“Is this better?” Blanca asks.

Yut-lung nods.

“Okay. Get some sleep, if you want. I’ll wake you up before the exam starts.”

Yut-lung falls asleep to the rhythm of Blanca’s fingers as they brush against his scalp again and again and again and again.

  
  
  


Yut-lung wakes up reenergized. He manages to sit through all three hours of Blanca’s exam without feeling like he’s about to pass out, which means that he doesn’t have an excuse to cozy up to Blanca, but that’s okay. He wouldn’t want to distract the students too much anyway.

A couple days ago, there was an anonymous question on the class page, which by itself wasn’t all that odd. Most questions posted on the class page are anonymous after all. This one, though, had nothing to do with Blanca’s lectures and everything to do with Blanca himself. Just a single sentence—

_ Professor, are you single? _

To which Blanca replied simply,  _ No _ ,  _ I’m not. _

It only spurred on countless more anonymous questions asking Blanca for details, because apparently his students have nothing better to do than pry into their professor’s personal life. Like studying maybe.

Yut-lung is tempted to reach out and hold Blanca’s hand in front of them, or even go as far as to kiss Blanca—only on the cheek,  _ of course _ —but he doesn’t. He resists the urge to show off because for now, he wants to keep Blanca to himself, wants all of Blanca’s affectionate smiles and all of his casual, gentle touches, wants it all for himself.

He does, however, sit really close to Blanca.  _ Really _ close. Like there could be an inch or two of space between them but instead, Yut-lung presses himself into Blanca’s side, close enough that Blanca has to put his arm on the back of Yut-lung’s chair so they can sit comfortably together.

It’s  _ great _ and Blanca’s students can come to their own conclusions.

It’s only when the undergrads have filtered out of the room does Yut-lung finally wrap his arms around Blanca and press a kiss onto his cheek.

“What was that for?” Blanca asks. But even before Yut-lung can answer, he pauses what he’s doing, arranging the haphazard papers his students left behind, and instead, he returns Yut-lung’s hug.

“I missed you,” Yut-lung says.

“We’ve been together this whole afternoon,” Blanca says. He runs his hand up and down Yut-lung’s spine, and Yut-lung knows it’s only meant to comfort him, but he can’t help the shiver that courses through him.

“I know,” he says. “But I couldn’t hug you like this all throughout the exam, and I  _ really _ wanted to.”

Blanca reaches up to tip Yut-lung’s chin up, leans in to kiss the tip of Yut-lung’s nose.

“Well, now you can hug me all you want,” Blanca says, and that’s true, but—

Well.

Yut-lung pulls away a little, worries at his lower lip for a moment before he finally gathers enough courage to ask, “Do you maybe want to go to my apartment? I know we talked about meeting up tomorrow so we can check the papers, but if you want, you could spend the night at my apartment? I mean—it’s late and I’m sure Sing has something that’ll fit you—”

“Yut-lung. Relax.” Blanca’s smile smothers the spark of nerves that Yut-lung feels from his chest all the way to the cold, numb tips of his fingers. “It’s fine. Let’s go to your apartment.”

Yut-lung’s answering smile is just as bright, if not brighter.

  
  
  


Sing isn’t coming home that night.

Yut-lung’s expecting it, really, considering how often Sing has been sleeping over at Ash and Eiji’s. He only ever comes back home to check up on Yut-lung, make sure he’s eating okay. He also comes back to try and convince Yut-lung to come and stay at Ash and Eiji’s too, just so he won’t be alone in their apartment, but Ash and Eiji live in a one-bedroom and Yut-lung does  _ not  _ love them enough to sleep on the couch for days at a time.

But it means that it’ll be just him and Blanca in his apartment for a night and that’s—

The thought of it makes his heart race, makes his blood rush in his ears, makes his hands shake when they aren’t holding onto Blanca.

Yut-lung doesn’t really realize it until they’re already inside, until they’re taking off their coats and their scarves, until they’re left standing at the door, just staring at each other. Even though the chilly December air from outside still lingers in the hallway, Yut-lung suddenly feels hot, feels like his clothes are too tight, too thick.

He licks his lips, says, breathless, “I’ll go and get you something to change into,” and runs away. He runs all the way to Sing’s room, slams the door shut, barely keeps himself from falling to his knees because he’s so dizzy with the thoughts spinning around in his head, too quick for him to process.

Yut-lung  _ wants _ . He wants a lot of things. He wants to go back out there and pull Blanca into a real kiss, wants to forget about dinner and spend the whole night in Blanca’s arms, wants to give in to what the beat of his heart is telling him to do— _ go to him, tell him, tell him that _ —

Yut-lung takes a breath, and another, and another.

He’s still scared, still overwhelmed, still worried, but tonight feels right, feels like the rising action to the climax that is them, finally taking their last step towards each other.

Yut-lung finds Blanca waiting by the couch when he finally comes out of the room he’s hidden himself in, and something must show on his face because Blanca’s eyebrows raise and his mouth opens, but he barely gets one word out before Yut-lung is kissing him, deep and heated and breath-taking. It’s everything that he’s ever imagined and  _ more  _ and it’s just  _ so much _ with Blanca’s hands holding him close, Blanca’s tongue against his, Blanca’s torso firm where Yut-lung is arching into him.

He’s breathless when they finally pull away from each other, his vision hazy except for the focal point of Blanca’s lips which are  _ red red red _ .

“Yut-lung?” Blanca says.

Yut-lung loves the shape of his name on Blanca’s lips, loves it so much that he pushes Blanca down onto the couch, climbs onto his lap so Blanca is stuck under his weight. He runs his hand up Blanca’s torso, up his chest, up his neck until Yut-lung is touching Blanca’s lips.

“Say my name again,” he says.

“Yut-lung,” Blanca echoes, and Yut-lung has to fight a shiver because Blanca’s voice has gone low and his eyes have turned dark and Yut-lung can feel Blanca’s cock hard against his ass. He feels his breath catch, feels his heart skip a beat, feels his own pants tightening, but he ignores it. He ignores everything but the sight of Blanca staring down at him, his hands stuck to his sides as if he’s afraid to touch Yut-lung.

Yut-lung can’t have that though.

He  _ wants _ , and this time he takes. He takes Blanca’s hands and places them on his hips, takes Blanca’s breath from between his lips and savors it, takes Blanca’s doubts from his body and takes them apart until they’ve dwindled down to nothing.

Into Blanca’s lips, he whispers, “Say my name, Blanca.”

“Yut-lung,” Blanca says, and Yut-lung takes that too.

He rewards Blanca with a rock of his hips, a brush of his hand down the outline of Blanca’s cock as he unzips Blanca’s pants, a swipe of his fingers across the head of his cock, already leaking with pre-come that Yut-lung brings up to his lips to taste. It’s been a while since he’s done this, but it doesn’t matter because it’s  _ Blanca  _ and just that fact makes this a long time coming.

He feels Blanca’s hands tighten around his hips, sees Blanca’s throat work, hears Blanca’s breath heavy in the air between them.

The next thing Yut-lung knows, he’s being pulled into another kiss—a kiss that consumes him, demands every bit of his attention. A kiss that makes him feel like he’s falling  _ down down down  _ into Blanca’s waiting arms. A kiss that makes his mind blank and his heart full and his entire body flush.

A kiss that distracts him enough that he doesn’t notice what Blanca’s doing until his own cock is already pressed against Blanca’s, until Blanca’s already guiding his and Yut-lung’s hands around both of their cocks, until Blanca is already moaning his name again, this time unprompted.

But Yut-lung lets himself be greedy, lets himself take more, lets himself say, “Again, Blanca.  _ Again _ .”

And Blanca does say his name again and again and  _ again,  _ just like Yut-lung asks him to. His voice is low, and every syllable of Yut-lung’s name is a singular grunt that sounds so beautiful to his ears.

_ Yut-lung, Yut-lung, Yut-lung _ —over and over again, in time to the drag of their palms up and down their cocks.

Yut-lung doesn’t know if he should concentrate on the sound of his name, or the feeling of Blanca underneath him, or the sight of Blanca, head thrown back, eyes closed in pleasure. He doesn’t know, and so he just lets them overwhelm him, lets his senses overload until he’s seeing white, crying Blanca’s name into the space between them.

He collapses against Blanca, barely gets his bearings before Blanca’s coming too, painting their still clothed chests with his come.

Yut-lung can’t muster up the energy to pull himself up to reach Blanca’s lips, and so instead, Yut-lung kisses what expanse of skin he can find. Later, it’s Blanca who finally wraps an arm around his middle, who finally pulls Yut-lung up until their lips meet in a lazy, sated kiss.

It’s Yut-lung’s name on Blanca’s lips when they separate, and Yut-lung responds in turn, whispers Blanca’s name into the line of his jaw. And they stay like that for a few moments, just wrapped up in each other, bathing in the tail-end of their pleasure.

It must only be a few minutes, but it feels like ages before Blanca breaks the silence.

“Did you forget to get me clothes, Yut-lung?” he says, and already, Yut-lung feels his cheeks warming because  _ clothes _ . From Sing’s room.  _ Right _ . “Or was that just a way to say I won’t be needing them tonight?”

Yut-lung resists the urge to hide himself in the crook of Blanca’s neck, and instead, he props himself up, lets his lips curl into a smirk, looks Blanca in the eye when he says, “I forgot, but I wouldn’t mind it if you skip them tonight.”

Blanca closes the distance between them, kisses the corner of Yut-lung’s mouth, says, “Dinner first. Then I’ll think about it.”

“Dinner first,” Yut-lung agrees. “And then you’ll decide you don’t need them.”

Blanca laughs.

  
  
  


The next morning, Yut-lung wakes up wrapped in Blanca’s warmth. He wonders if this is what he’ll wake up to tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that.

He hopes so.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's finally the last chapter aaaa wow wow wow it's been really fun writing this fic!!!!!
> 
> i wanna give a few shoutouts first
> 
> to [makiko](https://was-dft.tumblr.com) who was probably the first person who i was like "huh i wanna write an au where blanca is a prof and yut lung is his ta"
> 
> to [moose](https://twitter.com/butleronduty) who was the second person i talked to abt it and probably the first person i sent screenshots to, also the person who always gives us quality buralee content
> 
> to [jure](https://twitter.com/mamorumeowno) who listened to me freak out abt this last chapter and was probably here reading from the start??
> 
> thank u i love u all just like i really loved writing this fic :~( its been a great 2-ish months fellas!!!
> 
> also hey this fic may be done but this au isnt because i have 2 oneshots planned aaay

**Author's Note:**

> hey hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/singeiji), [tumblr](https://singeiji.tumblr.com/), or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/singeiji) :~)


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